LL8E5- 

V3\> 



LES ENFANTS 




GERTRUDE LITCHFIELD 




Class __L:__ : h 



Book 









COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/lesenfantsbookofOOIitc 



LES ENFANTS 

A Book of Verse 

in 

French-Canadian Dialect 



GERTRUDE LITCHFIELD 




1 BOSTON 

RICHARD G. BADGER 

THE GORHAM PRESS 

1911 



Copyright, 1910, by Gertrude Litchfield 



All Rights Reserved 











1 

















The Gorham Press, Boston U S. 



CCU278724 



PREFACE 

1HAVE the hope that all who read these 
verses may feel somewhat acquainted with the 
little French-Canadian people with whom it 
has been my priviliege and delight to associate 
as a teacher and a friend. 

It is not of the French-Canadians in Canada that I 
write, but of the families of the French-Canadian 
immigrants in New England, who, through their 
astonishing increase in numbers, and their admirable 
traits of industry, frugality, domestic virtue, and 
good citizenship, have made themselves "a power to 
be felt and known" in many of our large manufac- 
turing centres. 

This population, amounting to nearly a million 
French-Canadians in our midst, seems wonderful 
and significant. Although they cluster in communi- 
ties, although the adults speak little or no Eng- 
lish, though they do not readily mingle with the 
Anglo-Saxon element of our towns, yet their chil- 
dren attend our public schools, soon command both 
languages, and finally fill high places of trust and 
honor in our merchantile and civic affairs. 

These little children, during that most interest- 
3 



PREFACE 

ing period, when they are acquiring the English 
language, struggling with new words, putting aside 
their native speech for the time being, yet recurring 
to it often in moments of hesitancy, and with 
strange confusions in grammar, give us a unique 
and fascinating dialect. It is this dialect which I 
have tried to portray with such accuracy and sym- 
pathetic love that they will seem to my readers the 
real, warm-hearted, spontaneous, beauty-loving lit- 
tle beings which they are to me. 

Gertrude Litchfield. 



For kind permission to reprint some of these verses 
the author wishes to express her thanks to the editors 
of the Boston Transcript and the Primary Education. 



CONTENTS 

Page 

Spirit of Christmas 7 

Leetle Winter Bird IO 

George Washington 12 

Gabrielle's Oriole 14 

De Circus 15 

Ma Yeelow Cat 21 

The Broken Doll 23 

The Rubber Ball 24 

A Convalescent Boy on the Fourth of July . . . 25 

Lousie 26 

De Bebe on My House 28 

Letting de Ole Cat Die 30 

Ma Leetle Doll Rosette 31 

The Fire-fly 32 

Mademoiselle's Hat 33 

My Valentine 35 

L'ecole dans la rue Mechanique 36 

Hoppee Toad 40 

Le Canadien-Americain 42 

5 



CONTENTS 

IL N'Y A PLUS D' EN F ANTS 

The Courtship 45 

Coaxed 47 

De Piqnique 48 

De Railroad Train 50 

Over the Telephone 52 

De New Year 54 

Lullaby 56 

Dat Leetle Han 57 

De Storee Tarn 58 



SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS 

Wat you t'ink, Miss Fee, 
'Bout de Christmas tree — 
Santa Claus, he come? 
Dat geev some forme. 
Hev he got a sleigh, 
Lak de journal say, 
An' eight reindeer 
He hev for steer? 
How he mak' heself go 
Right over de snow 
An' reach all de house 
So still lak a mouse? 
Mus' be some trick — 
He go so quick 
Down beeg chimnee, 
For you never see 
How he get t'roo 
Dat beeg flu-flu, 
Nor w'at he leave — • 
But you jus' b'lieve 
He leave someting, 
Den bird on de wing 
He make' his pass 
To some noder place — 
Can't stop too long, 
So bells ding-dong, 
An' off he fly 
Right t'roo de sky. 
Will he come dis year? 
If I'm bad, I'm fear 
He don' lak me, 
But you know, Miss Fee, 
How hard I've try 
Not tell any lie; 
Wen Romeo swear 
I pulled his hair, 
7 



An' I say, I'm shu 
Santa Claus skip you. 
For no bad boy 
Will get some toy! 
But poor Romeo 
Aint got no show 
Side o' me, w'at's got 
A slicker lot, — 
You know my pa 
Don' go to de bar, 
An' my ma's ole dress 
Is better'n his ma's bes', 
An' she don' work 
('Cause my pa don' shirk) 
All day on de mill, 
An' at night work still 
For mak' de house, 
An' patch Romeo's blouse; 
Me changez my clo'es 
An' mettez belle chose 
Don' wear beeg patch, 
Nor t'ings dat scratch, 
Mos' all de skin off — 
I say dat's tough. 
Now let me see — 
If you was me 
An' Santa Claus bring 
So many t'ing 
Because I'm good 
An' do w'at I should, — 
If he don' know 
All about Romeo, 
Dat w'y he's bad 
Is 'cause he can't be glad, 
You t'ink he'll care 
(Dough Romeo swear) 
If I geev him a lot 
Of de t'ings he's brought? 
8 



'Cause you see, Miss Fee, 
Dough he knows me, 
Shu he don't know 
About Romeo — 
All about his pa 
An' about his ma — 
Don' know how hard 
'Tis, not to be bad ; 
An' p'r'aps w'en he gits 
More de t'ings w'at fits, 
An' some of de toys 
Wat's made for boys, 
P'r'aps den he'll be 
Jus' as good as me, 
So if Santa Claus come 
We'll mak' it some fonne 
For poor Romeo 
Whom Santa don' know. 
W'at you t'ink, Miss Fee, 
'Bout de Christmas tree? 



LEETLE WINTER BIRD 

Oh, chicadee-dee ! 
Leetle birdie, 
Were 'tis you go 
W'en com' de snow 
An' win' she blow, 
Leetle chicadee-dee? 

You don' lef us 
Nor do you fuss 
W'en storm com' down ; 
I guess you foun' 
Warm place aroun' 
Somewhere, chicadee-dee ! 

De God know, too, 

W'en he male' you 

An' de wedder, 

All togedder, 

To put green fedder 

On de tree, chicadee-dee! 

An' dere you stay — 
You know de way 
To do, for keep 
Out of snow heap 
W'en it is deep, 
Leetle chicadee-dee! 

But w'en de sun 
Com' out, beeg one, 
You sit an' sing — 
You 'fraid not'ing, — 
An' spread you wing 
For fly, chicadee-dee! 



10 



Wat would we do 

Not to hev you 

All winter long 

For sing de song 

Dat mak' hearts strong? 

Bravo ! Chicadee-dee ! 



II 



GEORGE WASHINGTON 

George Washington, 
Oh, he's beeg wan! 
An' hones', too, 
By gum, dat's true. 
He never lie — 
He'd radder die 
Den say bad t'ing; 
Wan tarn he bring 
His leetle axe 
An' he mak' whacks 
Right in de tree, 
W'at has cherree. 
Well, w'at you bet 
Dat he will get — 
His fadder lick 
Wid his beeg stick? 
No, his fadder 
Jus' look sadder, 
An' say, "Georgie, 
Who cuts my tree?" 
An' Georgie say, 
"'Tis jus' dis way — 
f cuts you tree. 
To nobodee 
I tell some lie, 
An' dat is why 
You don' catch me 
Lyin' 'bout dat tree." 
Well, aint dat queer! 
I'm pretty skeer 
If he'd been me, 
Dat you would see 
My fadder do 
A t'ing or two. 
Oh, you don't know 
De beeg ole blow 
13 



Dat I hev had 

Wen he's got mad! 
Sometam, I lie — 
Dere's no use try 
For speak out true 
Wen you are shu 
De lickin's com' ; 
An' yet, by gum, 
If fadder of he 
Was fadder of me, 
I'd be beeg wan 
Lak Washington! 



13 



GABRIELLE'S ORIOLE 

See, Oh see, dat leetle birdie 
Am singin' on de tree! 
She hev a nes' dat's swing, 
An' swingin' nice's can be. 
How I'd lak' to be de birdie 

Way up dar! 
Leetle birdie, not afraid, she 

Up so far! 

Birdie has de black on fedder, 
Look lak orange on it, too, 
Wid some leetle white ones 
For trimmin's, jus' a few. 
Teacher say 'tis oriole 

Jus' lak you! 
Soon you will begin for fly 

In sky so blue! 

Why you hurree up for go, 
Why not stay on de tree? 
Mus' you fin' somet'ing 
For eating? Come to me, — 
I will geev you all my cookie. 

Won' you stay? 
I'll not pull your leetle fedder, 

Petit cher! 



14 



DE CIRCUS 

You don' never gone to de circus? 

Wat for den you don' go? 
Me, I seen beeg wan, nice wan, — 

Dat fonnee circus show. 

I say I seen it, I did, too, 

But don' tole nobodee! 
'Cause de way I see was peek-boo 

Under de canopee. 

You don't lak dat way? Wat you t'ink 

Garcon lak me can do — 
'Cause I don' hev de fiftee cent 

Me stay outside wid you? 

Oh, non, non, non, you mak' meestak' ; 

Wen bon circus is here, 
I don' wait long, I jus' go tak 

Dis hole place, I don' keer. 

De rain com' down, an' win' she blow, 

But I don' keer for dat, 
Don' mak' some difference jus' now, 

I'm jus' lak beeg drowned rat. 

My eyes, dey's dry enough for peek, 

Aint moche dere I can't see — 
De beeg, strong man, an' wan dat's weak, 

An' wan dat's beeg fattee. 

Oh, gee! Dey do de crazee trick — 

All double up so tight, 
Den com' buffoon wid leetle stick, 

I t'ink he's gon' for fight. 



IS 



He ack so mad an' den he laf, — 
Noder clown com' on de stage, 

Has yeelow clo'es wid red on half 
Wat fits him very large. 

I'd lak' to mak' de fool, Oh yass, 

Dey's really very smart 
To go aroun' an' mak' deir pass 

On leetle petit cart. 

De long ear mule, he took it roun' 

To geev it for a ride, 
He try to t'row it out on groun' 

But clown hang to de side. 

Den dey bote sing some loud chanson, 

Si forte! it mak' me deef, 
But dey sing better de nex' wan, 

Dat's only mak' belief. 

A woman den mak' some performance — 

Hang itself up by de toes? 
I t'ot dat maybe she gon' dance, 

Or try for stan' on it's nose. 

But she jus' kip up on dat t'ing — 

De leetle swing trapeze 
Ev'ry minute her han' she fling 

An' sen' some bon kisses. 

Dat part I can't recount some more 
Pourquoi? It mak' me sick, 

I lak for see de lion roar, 
But kisses com' too t'ick. 

I'd hev for mak' my leave right den 

If horses did not come, 
I'm pretty sure dat I count ten 

Jus' arrive! I'm dumb, 
16 



An' deef, an' Win', an' all dat's fool, 

If I don' lak dat race! 
Dey go two-fortee (dey's no mule), 

Dat bay wan set de pace. 

De trumpet blow, de race feenish, 

De wan I lak, she's beat! 
I am so glad for get my wish, 

I can't stan' on my feet. 

Jus' den beeg man wid bad, black eye, 

He spy me dere peekin' 
I t'ink he put me in lock-up, 

I try get off sneakin'. 

But 'fore I hev de time for skip, 

He ax me tak' peanut, 
He say he geev me grosse tiquette 

If I sell dose peanut. 

Den I can see de animal — 

Jus' w'at I want to see — 
So I commence for mak' my yell, 
"Peanut! one bag for t'ree!" 

I sell dem all, an' lolly-pop 

Beside, so now I go 
To tell de man, he say "Tip-top!" 

An' geev tiquette, also. 

An' now I pass right t'roo de show, 

Can't stop or kip me out, 
Dat's my beesness, I guess I know 

Quite moche w'at I'm about. 

Dere's ev'ry kin' of animal — 
Beeg kin' an' kin dat's small, 

Dere's some w'at's more den I can tell, 
An' oders hard to call. 

17 



De elephan', he has beeg tail 
On place w'ere nose should be, 

An' on his mout', as sharp as nail, 
Two horn pointing at me. 

Den dere's de giraffe, si haut! 

She's rubber, rubber-neck, 
For she can look on all below — 

She sees ev'ryt'ing, I spec'. 

Rhinosceros has horn on nose! 

Dat mak' hyenas laf, 
An' me, I laf an' laf, si grosse! 

I almost' split in half. 

De camels, too, dat chew an' chew, 
Dey got some bumps on back! 

How do you t'ink dat you'd feel, you, 
To get so many whack? 

I had a bump, me, swell right up, 
Wen I got hit on head, — 

I'd never lick a leetle pup 
So hard, or he'd come dead. 

An' did you never seen black bear? 

He stan' up straight an' dance, 
Dey play some musique, an' right dere 

He mak' some leetle pranks. 

But w'at I lak mos' bes, of all 

Was monkeys, I don' care 
For de res', w'en de monkeys bawl 

An' fight, an' pull deir hair. 

Dey chat, chat, chatter all de tarn, 

Dey hev somet'ing for say, 
I s'pose, but always jus' de sam' — 

Dey'd lak for talk all day. 



Dey get a face lak Monsieur Giroux; 

My modder say, "For shame!" 
But dat's de trut' I tell, for shu, 

An' me, I'm not to blame 

'Cause he look lak dat, but anyhow, 

Dose monkey acks as well 
As he does, too, an' dat's trut' now, 

For him, he'll go to hell! 

He say all swear word, bad an' bole, 

An' lots he say beside, 
Ah' all de lies! I never tole 

So many, if I tried. 

I don' lak him, he mak' me mad ; 

I call him monkey once 
Right on his face, an' he's not glad 

For dat, not moche, je pense. 

I never know about dat t'ing 

Dey call de kangaroo, 
Wid head as leetle as a pin 

An' tail beeg 'nough for two. 

I t'ink she hev mos' ninety year, 

She walk as if it 's ole — 
Jus' lak my poor great-grandmodder — 

But now, I see she's hole 

De leetle babies on her knee! 

Her lap, she's mad' lak poche; 
My modder, she has got babie — 

So very, very moche — 

I t'ink she'd lak a poche comme cela! 

'Twould be a convenience 
For hole Celange, Beatrix, Eva, 

Fiorina an' Constance. 

19 



Jus' den, de Hon mak' beeg roar, 

My storee now is done, 
I t'ink he shake de very floor 

I'm scare me, an' I ronne. 

I don' know why I acks lak fou 

I wish dat I had stay, 
For w'en once I get out, Oh, whew! 

I can't get back no way. 

But den I get de fine balloon, 
Beeg man wid bad, black eye, 

He geev it me, a nice beeg wan, 
Jus' lak de moon on sky. 

I'm glad for dat, I hoi' it tight — 
Prend-garde, don' let it bus' — 

An' now I see it ev'ry night 
An' t'ink of de circus. 



20 



MA YEELOW CAT 

I use' for hev wan beeg, black cat, 

Noder tam I hev wan gray, 
But now I got no cat lak dat, 

Dis wan, she's noder way. 

She's very yeelow, tout le corps, 

She's got no white on nose 
No white on tail, nor anyt'ing, 

Not even on de toes. 

She's not moche fat, don' grow tres grosse, 

But I don' care for dat 
Of course, she gon' come pretty t'in 

Wen all tam she chase rat. 

She catch de beeges' wan I seen, 

'Twas mos' as beeg lak her, 
But she too quick for let it go — 

Dat's moche to rat's douleur. 

I'm always glad, me, w'en she get 

De rat for her souper 
For den I know she's hev enough 

An' will not go hungre. 

Sometam dere's no too moche manger 

For all fourteen children 
So w'ere you t'ink dat cat come in 

Wid such a lot of dem? 

She go an' mak' de leetle veesit, 

For see de people aroun' 
An' she restez until she eat 

Ev'ryt'ing dat can be foun'. 



21 



But w'en it's comin' presque soir, 

An' black in all de sky, 
I sit me at de window here, 

I know she come bime-bye. 

Den scratch, scratch, scratch, an' 

scratch, scratch, scratch ,- 

She jompe right to de place, 
She say, "Meow," an' "Meow" encore 

An' look right troo de glass. 

Dose eye, dey mak' me t'ink of fire, 
Lak coal in de fourneau ; 
You s'pose dat's how she fin' way home — 
Dey show it w'ere to go? 

I go an' ope de door for her, 

I say to her, '"Peche-toi!" 
For she is French, as French as me, 

But I know some Englais. 

Wen she come back again to me, 

We always hev good play, 
She ronne aroun' for leetle string, 

She lak for play dat way. 

Den come de sleepy tarn pour nous, 

L'enfant, dey go on lit, 
Dere's t'ree in all de bed but wan, 

Dat wan is trop petit. 

Dat wan is jus' beeg 'nough for me 

An' you, I tol' you dat, 
Dere's always room wid me for you, 

Ma good ole yeelow cat. 



22 



THE BROKEN DOLL 

I've los' my doll, she's broke it's head. 

An' I can't play, 'cause she's come dead. 

My modder bought anoder doll, 

She's great beeg wan, an' stan' so tall ; 

She's sitting dere in de parlor 

'Cause I aint got no use for her; 

She's yeelow hair, an' blue silk dress, 

Wid gold trimmin's an' all de res'; 

She is quite swell, my Isobelle, 

But I don' lak her near so well 

As Philomene, who sleep wid me, 

An' sit an' play upon my knee, 

An' know jus' ev'ryt'ing I say 

Until her head — she broke dat day. 

But I don' care if dolls is bus', 

You can't help love 'em — so — you mus' ! 



23 



THE RUBBER BALL 

You no play rubber ball — 

Male' her boun' on de wall? 
If you hit her veree fas' 

She will hurree, mak' her pass. 
You no catch it — 
Jus' you slap it 
She will com' right back to you 

Before you can count "one, two!" 
You no need some wan for t'row, 
De leetle ball, she seem to know 
How to come back, 
When she go whack. 
Wouldn't you t'ink dat she'd feel tire 
Wen she go more fas' an' higher? 
But she never fail you so, 

Jus' so long you mak' her go, 
Wen you hit it 
An' don' miss it. 
Dere's de crack dere on de wall 
Dat is w'ere you sent de ball, 
An' it look dere all de w'ile 
Jus' as if it 's wan beeg smile, 
Dat seem for say, — 
"'Tis you stop play, 
You can't beat de rubber ball, 
She would not geev up at all, 
You're no winner — 
She's de spinner." 



24 



A CONVALESCENT BOY ON THE 
FOURTH OF JULY 

Dey mak' beeg noise, an' dey catch bad boys, 
An' dey puts 'em in de lock-up, 
An' dey mak' beeg fires an' dey cuts de wires, 
An' de roads dey try for block-up. 

Dey blow de horn an' mak' 'lum'nation, 
Dat look lak de sky was burning, 
Some red an' blue, an' green fire, too, 
Shows up ev'ryw'ere you're turning. 

Dere's fire-crackin', an' great beeg w'ackin' 
Wan, goes off, almos' bus' your ear; 
It seems to me dat dis shouldn't be — 
If I was out, I wouldn't keer. 

But w'en you're sick, you'd radder be lick 
Den hev for stay here, all shut up 
Tight in de house, so still lak a mouse, 
An' never, never to get up. 

Only jus' lie an' see de t'ings fly, 
An' wish dat you could fly 'way, too. 
I t'ink you'd cry on de Fort' o' July 
If you had to stay on de house, you! 



25 



LOUSIE 

Lousie, 
On de head, me! 
Here, I guess, 
On dis place, 
Oh, she's bit — 
I know it! 
I go scratch 
Try for catch 

Lousie, 
Bad lousie! 

Lousie, 
On de head, me! 
Dere it go — 
Bite encore, 
How she fly, 
Oh, me, my! 
I don' see 
Were she be 

Lousie, 
Quick lousie! 

Lousie, 
On de head, me! 
If she's one 
She's hev fonne 
Skippin' so — 
But dere's mo' 

Yes, I bet 
I will get 

Lousie, 
Ten lousie! 



26 



Lousie, 
Now your' re dead, see! 
Run no mo' 
I am sho' 
In my han' 
You will stan' 
No mo' bite, 
Not a mite, 

Lousie, 
Poor lousie! 



27 



DE BEBE ON MY HOUSE 

Dere's a bebe com' on my house, 
Sauvage bring it, dat's true — 

She bring it for my modeler 
An' for my fadder, too. 

I lak de bebe on my house, 
My fadder's not moche glad, 

My modder look at de bebe, 
I t'ink den she feel sad. 

Since de bebe com' on my house, 
Dere's somet'ing don' be right, 

It don' ope it's eyes for seein'. 
Dey's always shut up tight. 

Wan eye, she mak' it go lak dis, 
Nodder eye, she go lak dat ; 

Can't kip it warm, can't kip it still, 
Little han' she go lak dat. 

Don' mak' no difference on my house 

Wat dey can do at all, 
Bebe still hev les deux jambes croches, 
An' always kip so small. 

De sauvage dat com' on my house, 

She bring de bebe so; 
My fadder's mad, yass, very mad, 

He say she bring some mo' 

Lak dat w'en she com' on my house 
He'll shoot her so she's dead, 

He's 'fraid not'ing, my fadder is, 
He'll shoot her on de head. 



28 



But de bebe don' stay on my house, 
We know raison for why, 

We geev good name for de bebe, 
So, of course, she's gon' for die. 

Geev it bad name, bebe will leev, 
You see, dat's jus' de way; 

Rosalma Valida — fine name, 
An' so she cannot stay! 

Well, den dey took it from my house, 

Put in on cemetiere, 
An' now we hev no bebe 

For I'm le plus jeune dere. 

Nex' tarn Sauvage com' on my house 
She's gon' bring one for stay; 

I don' t'ink she's nice for geev it 
An' den tak' it away. 



29 



LETTING DE OLE CAT DIE 

Oh, I go swing, an' I swing high, 
I'm t'inkin' shu I'll touch de sky, 
But I fin' out I can't do dat 
For ev'ry tarn I come right back; 
To swing some more, I will not try. 

"Get out!" I say. 

"Oh, now go 'way 

An' don' touch me 

For can't you see 
Dat I'm letting de ole cat die!" 

Rosie, she sit in hammock close by 
Wid her Henri, — dey don' swing high, 
Dey're too busee for talk too moche; 
I never see de lak of soche ; 
He's kissin' it right on de sly — 

But she don' say, 

"Oh, now go 'way 

An don' touch me!" 

For can't you see — 
She's not letting de ole cat die! 



30 



MA LEETLE DOLL ROSETTE 

She com' fatiguee, 

Ma leetle Rosette, 

Her eye, she's fermez, 

De bes' wan she's get — 
She don't hev but wan, 

De oder, dat melt 
Wen shine de beeg sun. 

So sorree I felt 
I catch her up quick 

An' save oder eye 
Dat's turn to de brick 

Of de walk close by 
On my house, Oh, my! 

I kiss it an' mak it 
Com' well ; she don' cry 

Lak de doll dat sit 
^o fine in beeg store. 

She can't say, "Papa!" 
Perhaps if I show her 

She can say, "Mamma!" 
But why need for speak ? 

I know all she mean 
Wen I put leetle cheek 

Up close, how she been 
So sleepee for long time, 

So tres fatiguee 
I sing her de nice rhyme, 

An' den she's dormez 
She sleep all de day, 

Ma leetle Rosette 
Her eye, she's fermez 

De bes' wan she's get. 



31 



THE FIRE-FLY 

Oh, leetle fire-flier, 
I'm shu you go higher 
Dis night, den I ever was 

seen you before! 
I look on de grass here, 
An' den on de bush near, 
An' den on de tree an' I 

see you encore, 
Nort', an' sout', an' eas', — wes',- 
You go w'ere you lak bes', 
An' me, I go follow an' 

wish you keep still — 
Jus' wan leetle minute 
I see how you' wing lit 
De sky — lak de star in de 

heaven twinkel! 
I put out my han' so 
But 'fraid me you're tres chaud, 
I t'ink you gon' burn me 

wid you' pretty light, 
But now, I hev caught you, 
Wat is it you got, you? 
I don' know, — I can't tell — 

Wat mak' you so bright! 



32 



MADEMOISELLE'S HAT 

Mademoiselle Valoir 
Hev a hat noir, 
Got beeg fedder 
Dat look redder 
Den garden beet 
You lak for eat, 
It was beeger 
Dan de feeger 
In de store had — 
(Dat was tres bad) — 
Lak a basket 
Dat ma mere's get 
W'ich I put on, for fonne, 
Comme cela! 

Mademoiselle Valoir 
Com' to our parloir 
For mak' veesit, 
An' down she sit. 
I hev for smile — 
She t'ink she's style. 
"Tak' off you' hat," 
Ma mere said dat, 
She, agreable, 
Put 't on de table; 
Wen she no look, 
Dat hat I took 
An' put it on, for fonne, 
Comme cela! 



33 



Mademoiselle Valoir 
She's ma bete-noire! 
She look aroun', 
An' den she foun' 
Dat I borrow 
Her beau chapeau, 
Oh, gol done ca, 
How she holler! 
She say, "I guess 
Dis no politesse!" 
She jompe for me, 
But I hurree — 
Away I ronne, for fonne, 
Comme cela! 



34 



MY VALENTINE 

I get wan Christmas card, 
An' I hev wan New Year, too, 
But de wan I lak mos' bes' 
Was de wan I get from you. 

I don' know w'at it say — 
Can't read me, very correc', 
But de picture was dandy 
All color, Oh, 't was slick! 

Dere was hearts upon it- 
My sister get wan lak dat — 
Wid blue flower aroun' it 
W'at you call forget-me-nat. 

She read me de verses, 
An' I 'member w'at dey say — 
"Je t'aime toujours, ma cherie 
Je suis tout a vous, si vrai!" 

I wonder if de letter 

On my card speak it so fine! 

I ax her if she tell me, 

An' she read, — "My Valentine." 

She lak her card quite moche, 
She tol' me it's from her beau — 
I don' know who or w'ich wan, 
But perhaps it's Romeo. 

But dis, "My Valentine"— 
Dat soun' so good an' so true, 
An' I s'pose I lak it bes' 
Because, well, — it came from you ! 



35 



L'ECOLE DANS LA RUE MECHANIQUE 

Dat teacher dans la rue Mechanique, 

We lak her more'n all de res', 
Pourquoi? 'Cause she's lak de Canayen, 

An' so, for shu, she's de bes'. 

Her eye, she's black lak Canayen, 
Her hair, she's brown lak de bear, 

She's not a large wan, dat teacher, 
She is leetle — can get ev'ryw'ere. 

She not nak' no fuss for de chil'ren, 
She help dem for mak' it some fonne, 

She can skip, jompe, an' play lak a good wan, 
I bet you, too, she can ronne. 

Sometam she gon put her arm 'roun' us 
Quand we do somet'ing bad politesse, 

She tell us how bad it mak' feel her, 
Wen we try hard for not do our bes'. 

Den tear she stan' out on de eye 

Of de boy or de girl also, 
Den a look go from one to de oder 

A look w'ich we all better know. 

De teacher den start us on singin' 
"My Countree," or somet'ing lak dat, 

She mak' us all stan' up lak sojer 
An' den we go march after dat. 

She tell us sometam leetle storee 

'Bout ev'ryt'ing she don' know, 
I tell you, it mak' us to listen 

For she go so nice an' so slow. 



36 



She go slow for male us comprenez, 

Don' you see now de raison for why? 

We don' understand moche of Englais, 
An' for mak' us, she always is try. 

Wen de han' she mak' noise on de desk, 
An' de foot she mak' noise on de floor, 

You t'ink she go mad an' screech 
An' lak de beeg lion mak' roar? 

Well, I t'ink not, 'tain't lak her for do so, 

She sit herself down right away, 
She look at us kin' in de face, 

An' she say, "Leetle chil'ren, let's play." 

She know all de hard we been workin' 
Pour de lire et d'ecrire an' all such, 

She see it is hard for keep quiet, 

An' she know we lak play very much. 

Oh, den you should see up de han' com' 
For mak' it some choice 'bout de game — 

'Tis "bean-bag," an' "boy-blue," an' lots more- 
"Leetle squirrel" is bes' jus' de same. 

You know how com' play "leetle squirrel"? 

'Tis de tune of de "Doodle Yankee," 
I lak it, me, it is so pretty, 

An' de tune, it is dead easee. 

"De leetle squirrel wants to race 
Wid some quick child who's steady, 

So hide you desk upon you face" — 
I make' meestake lak Teddy! 



37 



He always sing dat t'ing wrong way — 
For how you gon hide desk on face? 

'Tis "hide you face upon you desk 
An' for de nut be ready." 

Den, "Tra la la la la la la, 

La la la la la la la," 
Sing "Tra la la la la la la, 

La la la la la la, la." 

You see all tarn dat las' chanson, 
A leetle boy still ronne on, 

He carry nut right in his han' 
An' drop it soon to some wan. 

Dat wan, he pick it up so quick, 
An' chase de feller who's droppin', 

He chase him up an' down de aisle, 
Wile all de res' am watchin'. 

Oh, dat is w'at mak' us excite, 

'Tis good as de circus, 
For see de feller catch him so 

It mak' us almos' bus'. 

De game is don', we soon go home, 
But some stay wid maitresse, 

Dere'e wan restez mos' ev'ry niglu 
Dat wan, it is Amez. 

He hev a sled outside de door, 
He say he geev de teacher ride; 

She say she cannot ride no more, 
She hev a laugh she cannot hide. 



38 



It male* her t'ink w'en she was young, 
She mus' be pretty old at las', 

For she's been teachin' all de tarn 
Since I was com' to baby class. 

Well, Amez, he will talk to her, 

For he does love her so, 
I t'ink dat he will stay all night 

He is so slow for go. 

He say he's shu for marry her 

W'en he grow into man 
He say he geev her good ride den 

For he will hev a span. 

He say w'en dey com' mak' marree 

Dere's money in de bank, 
He geev her a ten-dollar bill, 

An never be no crank. 

He spen' his money all for hei, 

Dat mak' her very glad, 
He say he never swear no more 

An' never more be bad. 

She laugh a leetle, say not'ing, 

I tol' you dat ain't so, 
Amez, she never marry him, 

She hev anoder beau ! 



39 



HOPPEE TOAD 

Hoppee, hoppee, hoppee-toad, 
Wen I seen you on de road, 
T'ot you was a lettle stone 
Dat I almos' step upon, 
But you jompe across de road, 
Hoppee, hoppee, hoppee-toad ! 

You land you'se'f wid such a t'ump, 
An' com' down all in a flat lump, 
Den you push you'se'f along 
Wid you' back legs, beeg an' strong; 
It is fonne to watch you go — 
Jerkee, jerkee, veree slow! 

If I do not go too near, 
You don' care if I am here — 
T'ink you lak ma comp'ny, too, 
Wen I'm quiet, jus' lak you. 
I can't any quarrel pick 
If I poke you wid a stick — 

You not gon' to try for fight, 
Don' know how to scratch or bite ; 
Jus' you turn an' mak' you' pass 
T'rough de fiel' an' 'cross de grass- 
Will not stay upon de road, 
Hoppee, hoppee, hoppee-toad. 

Once a time I follow you 
Wat you tink I seen you do 
If I don' see wid my eyes 
Guess I gon' be some surprise. 
I hev watch you catch a fly 
An' mak' my laugh till I come cry, 



40 



Wen you snap widin you' mout' 
All de bug you fin' about 
But dis tarn, 'fore I can say 
Wat you gon' do anyway 
Weder you unfasten it 
Or 'twas tight enough to split 

I never know, but in de dirt, 
Dere I seen you eat you' shirt. 
Wen you pull it off you' back 
Dere's anoder brown an' black 
Underneat' it, — jus' de sam'! 
Ma foi! Avez-vous faim? 

If I know dat you get lef, 
An' you hev for eat you'se'f, 
'Stead of catching bug an' fly 
I would feed you, by and by, 
Wen again I pass de road, 
Hoppee, hoppee, hoppee-toad! 



41 



LE CANADIEN-AMERICAIN 

Well, yass, dat's so, I'm Frangais, me, 

But dat's not all I am, 
I don' leev on de French countree, 

I lak de Uncle Sam ; 
My modder, an' my fadder too, 

Dey come leev on de state, 
An' dat's no matter w'ere day grev, 

It never is too late 
For de Canadien 
To be Americain. 

I'm small wan, me, beeg 'nough to be 

Not'ing at all, I guess, 
But w'at you t'ink dat you will see 

Wen tarn gon' mak' it's pass? 
You t'ink you know it, do you, yass? 

Dat I will be sojer, 
An' not be couche on de grass, 

T'inkin' all dis over — 
How de Canadien 
Can be Americain. 

If I go on de war an' figlTt, 

I'm not 'fraid, me, for die 
I'm shu, for I hev dream at night 

Dat I was in de sky; 
Dat's nice place dere, — but if I leev 

An' loss my leg or arm, — 
Dat's not too moche, is it, to geev 

If you lak Uncle Sam 
As dis Canadien 
Who is Americain? 



42 



IL N'Y A PLUS D'ENFANTS 



THE COURTSHIP 

Wen ma modeler die, ma tante, she say, 

"You com' an' leev wid me, 
I'm not moche rich, but I know de way 

Ta mere gon' feel sorree 
If de speerit com' an' see its girl 

Wid nobodee care for it 
I tak' you now, an' watch you till 

Some feller com' an' sit 
An' court you dere in de ole parloir, 

An' ax you for mariee, — 
Oh, now you com' so rouge, w'at for 

You color up dat way? 
Look lak de blood will bus' your skin, 

But I know you t'ink for sure 
Of de boy by de name of St. Martin 

Who hang aroun' de door 
Mos' ev'ry night till de clock strike ten, 

An' longer, too, maybee, 
If I don' call an' tell you den 

It's tarn for all bodee 
To say 'Aurevoir,' an' go to bed, 

Or to-morrow will fin' 
You rose cheek white, an' feel beeg head. 

An' dat won' please Antoine." 
I min' ma tante, because I know, 

I'm sure she's good for me. 
Nex' morn, she look inside ma door 

Wen I am still sleepee, 
She say, "Antoine, he look very nice 

Las' night! — Oh, you can't fool me 
Lookin' as if you hev no eyes — 

Shut tight so you cannot see; 
You might as well wake up and show 

How shine you beeg black eye! 
But I'll not ax you any mo' — 

I know you'll com' bime-by 
45 



An' say, 'Ma tante, you sure mus' see 

De way dis t'ing she go — 
How I lak him, an' he lak me, 

He is de only beau.' " 
Ma tante, she mus' hev beau galore 

Wen she was young some day, 
Leevin' back in ol' Canadaw, 

She knows mos' all de way, 
I don' hev tol' her ev'ryt'ing, 

An' I don' hev tol' you! 
But dis moche happen in de spring 

Wen all de sky was blue, 
An' fiel' was green, an' bird dey sing 

As if dey's glad lak me, 
For dere's no feller ever bring 

A girl dat's more happee 
Up to de church of de Notre-Dame 

For mak' de mariee, 
For him, he say he got bes' femme 

Dere is on dis countre ! 



COAXED 

Wat for you ax me mariee 

Wen I hev tol' you, "Non, non, non?" 
Wat's dat, w'at's dat I hear you say — 

Dat you will ax Marie LeDaux? 
Oh, now, you know she's not fine girl, 

An' she don't lak you, too, I'm shore — 
She tol' me she lak Joe Marville 

Till she can't lak some one no more. 
W'at's dat, you say she tak' you quick 

If she can get you on de string? 
You are so smart, you mak' me sick, 

You talk lak you don' know not'ing! 
Say, 'Gene, I t'ink you gon' crazee — 

I'll never look at you some more 
If you t'ink Marie's better'n me — 

Ma gosh, you mak' me almos' roar! 
Com' in de house, its col' outside, 

I feel some col' myself, also. 
(I don' know how dat I can hide 

Wat he mus' soon fin' out, I know!) 
Come, now, you sit beside me here 

For I hev very moche to say. 
"Kiss you"! Oh no!— "Marie"! Oh dear! 

Ah oui, I geev you nice baiser! 



47 



DE PIQNIQUE 

Wan day we go on leetle piqnique, 

Off in de wood somewhere, 
Dere's Jeremie Plant, and Joe Trinique, 

An' me, we t'ree was dere. 

Dere's not moche work on shop dat tarn, 

Ba gosh, we do not care! 
We lak mak' monee all de sam' 

But we not gon' for swear. 

We say, "Here comes our luck for sure, 

Dis day we mak' some fun, 
We see de sky she can't be bluer, 

An' oh, so bright, de sun! 

We tak' our pole an' tak' our string 

An' put a hook on it, 
We dig some worm which Jeremie put 

Right into his pocket. 

An' Joe, he hev w'at I don' know, 

But he geev me leetle wink, 
So I suppose we hev also 

Somet'ing dat's good for drink. 

We sit dere on de rock dat day, 

Waiting for fish to bite 
But dey don seem for be hungre, 

Perhaps de sun's too bright. 

I see Jeremie, he shif his seat — 

He seem quite oneasee, 
An' den I feel de dam mosquit' 

Is try for eat up me. 



48 



Dere's fonnee t'ing — we make a bet 

Dat we won' speak of it, 
Nor scratch ourselves on w'at we get 

An' so dey bit an' bit. 

But never word we say encore 

Till I can see quite well 
A bite is under Joe's collar 

An' on Jeremie's ankel. 

On my finger I get bad one 
Which mak' me mos' crazee, 

I say, "Perhaps you t'ink dis fun? — 
*I'm catchin' cold for me." 

Den Jeremie rise an' start for run, 
**He shak' his heel lak dat 

An Joe, poor t'ing, his turn began, 
But Joe, he's pretty sma't. 

***He look aroun' dis way, den dat— 
For see how Jeremie run, 

An' den we all tak' up our hat 
An' call our fishin' done. 

Dere's not'ing said about de bet, 
But sometam w'en we meet 

We ax, "How many bite you get 
W'en we had dat piqnique?" 



*Gesture — drawing the infected finger under the nose. 
**Gesture — moving up and down the infected ankle. 
***Gesture — turning head from side to side, rubbing 
neck against the collar. 



49 



DE RAILROAD TRAIN 

Wat you know 'bout dis railroad train ? 

I seen her two, t'ree tam, 
Wen on Sunday I tak' my cane 

An' go walk wid my femme. 

Wan day I pass on dat depot 

An' smoke wan good cigar, 
Wen I mak' up my min' to go 

An' tak' ride on de car. 

I wear a bel new suit on me, 

So I suppose for guess, 
Wid red neck-tie an' small goatee, 

I am quite politesse. 

I tie a flower wid a pin 

Upon my button-hole, 
I see a window — look widin 

To see how tiquette sol'. 

I call out, "Monsieur Door-keeper, 
Geev me wan grosse tiquette 

For go ride on your steamboat car — 
Dere's fiftee cent for it. 

I go walk out in de platfloor 

For promenade leetle way, 
Dere's many people go out-door 

For watch de train passez. 

I walk aroun' an' feel me, too 

Is jus' as beeg wid dem. 
I turn my back, an' den, "Toot-too!" 

I hear dat beeg engen. 



50 



She com' aroun' dat curv' corner, 

So fas' I cannot tell! 
I am so mad she don' stop dere 

My tiquette I will sell. 

I ax somewan if he will buy, 

I say I'll sell it cheap — 
For twentee-cent. He says, "For why 

You' tiquette you don' keep?" 

I tak it to de door-keeper, 

He say, "Dat's not your train." 
I say, "For dat I pay my fare, 

You don' catch me again! 

"If dat's not mine, whose is it, den? 

I don' ride ev'ry day, 
But if I cannot go jus' w'en 

I lak, I'll stay away." 

Ba gosh, w'at mak' me mad de mos' 

Was w'at dat engen say, 
I can't help swear, me, w'en, ba grosse! 

She commence for souffler. 

"Too-te-too-te-toot, I got you fiftee cent 

I got you fif-tee cent, — 
"Too-te-too-te-toot, I got you fiftee cent 

I got you fif-tee cent!" 



51 



OVER THE TELEPHONE 

One, two — ring t'ree! 

Madame's out — 
Dat means me! 

I go speak on telephome! 
Felix knows 

She's not at home. 
Now he t'ink dis 

Wan good chance 
Perhaps for ax me 

Go for dance. 
* Hello, — Yes, yes, — 

Hello, I say, — 
Wat for you go 

Talk dat way? — 
I can't tole you 

Wat you tell ! — 
Wat's dat you say — 

I mak' my yell? — 
Well, I can't hear 

Very well. 
If you knew how 

I'd mak' you spell! — 
"L-O-V-E" 

Dat's correc' — 
How you learn dat? — 

Oh, I 'spec' 
You got teachers 

Somew'ere roun'!— 
No, I never! — 

I'll be boun' 
Dat's all you know! 

Wat you geev 
If 'tisn't so? — 



*Taking down the receiver. 
52 



Well, I'd geev 
Not anyt'ing! — 

No! I do not 
Want your ring. — 

Let me hear you 
Try again. — 

"M-A-R— ", Yes, 
( Dat's veree plain ! ) 

"I-E-R— " Wat, 
You mean me? — 

You spell quite right !- 
Well, dat's fonnee, 
I t'ought you don' 

Know anyt'ing, 
But now, I guess, 

I talc' you ring. — 
An' marry you 

Ah oui, maybe. — 
(But I'm not shu 

Who's talk to me — 
Dat voice don' soun' 

Lak' my Felix — 
I t'ink I mus be 

Pretty mix. 
I'll ax him, now!) 

Say, who is dere? — 
Not you, Felix? 

Oh, Great Cesaire! 
Wat I goin' do? — 

Marry wit' you — 
I not promise ! — 

**Felix ! — Adieu.*** 



**Aside — indicating the entrance of Felix. 
***Hanging up the receiver. 



53 



DE NEW YEAR 

De New Year com' 
An' de New Year go! 
De New Year com' 
But she com' no mo' 
Wid de t'ing she brought 
So long ago. 

I 'member me, 
Wen I hev a beau- — 
He's bes' man den 
Dat I ever know 
In dat sweet tarn 
So long ago! 

We male' mariee, 
An' den we go 
Leev on good house 
Wid plaintee mo' 
Good t'ing we had 
So long ago! 

De chil'ren com' 
An' de chil'ren go, 
An' de leetle wan 
Play aroun' our do' — 
Oh my, it seems 
So long ago! 

Wan New Year com' 
An' it bring my Joe — 
Oh, de bel ange! 
We loved him so, 
But he pass from us — 
So long ago! 



54 



My man, he's here, 
But I don' know 
How long he sit 
So droll an' slow 
Beside de fire, 
I only know 

Dat he's not lak 
De man he was 
He's lak de fly 
You see was froz' 
Upon de wall 
An' los' its buzz. 

De tarn will com', 
Wen he no mo' 
Will sit beside 
De oven do', 
An' smoke his pipe 
An' puff an' blow. 

Wen dat tarn com' 
I hope to go — 
For he's my man, 
An' I love him mo' 
Den I did de beau 
Of long ago! 

De New Year com* 
An' de New Year go! 
But in nex' worl' 
Perhaps I'll know 
My man w'at was 
So long ago! 



55 



LULLABY 

Hush! Hush! 
Go to sleep, ma bebe, 
Don' you cry, stop you try 
For male' les yeux see, 
Fermez vite, rest, ma sweet — 

Ma wan leetle cherie! 

Hush! Hush! 
Ton pere, he no comin' — 
Com' no more for see pauvre 
Petite bebe an' me. 
Oh, le Dieu! pity you — 

Ma wan leetle cherie! 



56 



DAT LEETLE HAN' 

Dat leetle han' 
It was so sweet, 
So lak a rose 
Dat bloom an' greet 
Us in de June. 
No flower dat grows 
Was look so pink 
An' none could change 
More quick, I t'ink, 
An' fade more soon. 

Dat leetle han' 
I feel it still 
As if could touch 
Ma cheek, an' t'rill 
Ma heart wid joy. 

Marie Sainte, 

1 look to Dee! 
Hoi' Dou dat han' 
An' keep for me 
Ma leetle boy! 



57 



DE STOREE TAM 

{Adapted from an old Canadian Legend) 

Sometam w'en snow at night, or rain, 
We all com' sit on our kitchen ; 
De modder weave de rag tapis, 
Wile leetle wan play about de knee, 
De boys mak' noisee mos' de tarn, 
But girls, deys busee jus' de sam ; 
I pull ma chair up to de fire — 
De stove, ma femme, she polish higher 
Dan toe St. Peter, — w'at you tink — 
She mak' me proud ? You bet you' chink ; 
I light ma pipe, commence for smoke 
W'en seems lak ev'ry wan, she spoke, 
An' pull ma collar, tear ma hair, 
Till I mos' t'ink I don't be dere — 
"Oh, tell wan storee, papa, please!" 
I see I never get no ease 
Till storee 's done, so say me, "Well 
About w'at t'ing you want I tell?" 
"Oh, tell about de grandfadder 
Dat used for live on Canada!" 
De storee, sure, dey know by heart, 
But always want to hear dat part — 
How he got los' at Point Levis 
On wan dark night. He go on spree — 
I guess dat's true — but he say no — 
He always claim it isn't so, 
Dough he hev flask of whiskey blanc 
He said he did not drink ce temps. 
Now he start out upon de way — 
A braver man don' leev, I say, — 
De horse he ride was wan fine brute 
Dat lak de bow an' arrow shoot, 
An so he go for many mile; 
Bime-bye it seem de witches' isle, 
58 



De Isle D'Orleans — jus' right across 
Was all afire; he leave his hoss, 
He sprang de ditch — he lean on fence, 
Wid all his eyes he stare intense — 
He saw de flames dance up and down, 
Lak will-o'-wisp, go roun' an' roun', — 
He strain his eyes wid all his might, 
An' den behol', wan cur'ous sight, — 
Some men dere were of queerest breed 
Wid heads lak peck measure, indeed, 
An' pointed cap, a yard in length, 
Some claws, mauvaise, of awful strength, 
Were on de leg, an' feet, an' han', 
An' now I tole you 'bout dis man 
De strangest t'ing of all dat be 
Was dat he don' hev no bodee, — 
De leg seem fasten' to de ear, 
An' all de fat had disappear, 
De lip of ev'ry wan was split 
Ver' moche de same as de rabbit. 
An' t'rough each split, a tusk dere be 
Lak dat in you' unnat'ral histree ; 
De nose was lak wan beeg pig-snout, 
W'ich dey could twist each way about, 
De tail was mak' for sweep de flies, 
'Twas twice as long as cow's, besides. 
For ev'ry couple of dose witch 
Dere's only t'ree eye — one of w'ich, 
De one-eye imp, lead 'roun' de two 
Who follow heem an' mak' goo-goo 
Wid bot' hees eyes, an' jompe along, 
Lak choking cow dey sing dis song, — 

"Come, my tricking traveler's guide, 
Devil's minion, true and tried, 
Come, my sucking pig, my simple, 
Brother Wart and Brother Pimple, 
Here's a fat and juicy Frenchman 
To be pickled, to be fried!" 
59 



Your grandfadder, he feel som' scare, 
He say, "Now prenez-garde, ma chere, 
If you get no more fat to eat 
Dan dat you fin' on my lean meat 
You need not hardly skim you' brot' !" 
An' 'fore dere's tarn for second tho't, 
He see loom up wan beeg devil 
As long as steeple St. Michael; 
He carry 'bout a beeg sauce-pan, 
He beat on it, an' goblins ran 
Lak lightnin' 'roun' de island shore 
In wan minute, w'ile giant roar, 

"Here's the spot that suits us well 
When it gets too hot in hell, 

Toura Loura, 
Here we go all around, 

Hands all around, 
Here we go, hands all around ! 

"Come along and stir your sticks, 
You jolly dogs of heretics, 

Toura Loura, 
Here we go all around, 

Hands all around, 
Here we go, hands all around! 

"Room for all, there's room for all 
That skim or wriggle, bounce or crawl, 

Toura Loura, 
Here we go, all around, 

Hands all around, 
Here we go, hands all around !" 

De devil struck de beeg sauce-pan, 
An' said, "Come 'cross quick as you can, 
Dere's only fourteen t'ousand time 
To dance aroun' an' sing de rhyme, 
Before 'tis time for cock to crow!" 
Wid dat, he struck t'ree awful blow. 
60 



Your grandfadder could feel de sweat 
Stan' out all over heem, you bet, 
'Twas hanging from hees nose, ba gosh ! 
Lak head of oats, — he's scare dat moche. 
He felt heeself some stupefy, 
An' den he hear a bird, w'ich cry, 
"Que tu?"— "O, ho!" My fadder said, 
'Tis quite plain now dat I'm not dead 
An' gon' to hell — for now I hear 
De good Lord's bird — de leetle dear!" 
He ope his eye, first wan, den two, 
An' still he hear de soun' "Que-tu?" 
"Oh, my dear bird," said he to it, 
"I'm not quite sure my name will fit; 
De day before, 'twas Jean Coutu, 
But I can't say now if it's true." 
Wen he perceive it's broad day light 
He fin' heeself in such a plight — 
Right in de ditch, cover' wid sand ; 
First t'ing he did, he stretch hees hand 
For talc' a drink, but no such luck! 
De empty flask he foun' was stuck 
Into de mud, an' so he guess 
De witches drank it, more or less, — 
He swear dat he don' tak' two drop. 
He walk way home — de horse don' stop 
For bring heem back — an' such a change 
Was in heem dat we t'ought it strange. 
You don' believe it? In one night 
His hair was turn from black to white. 
'Twas two week after 'fore he tole 
One-half de storee, or de whole. 
But ever after, ever more 
He's even 'fraid to do his chore 
Out in de stable after dark, 
At ev'ry noise he say, "Oh, hark!" 
An' shak' heeself wid fear an' dread. — 
Dat's all, ma children, go to bed. 
61 



dec 30 saio 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Sept. 2009 

PreservationTechnologies 

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111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 1 6066 
(724) 779-2111 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 

:: 30 W10 



